


Your Queen

by NightWolfsTales



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Accidental Stimulation, Aftercare, Denial of Feelings, F/F, Queer Queens, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-14 13:03:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18476803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightWolfsTales/pseuds/NightWolfsTales
Summary: Daenerys would teach Sansa to respect her if it was the last thing she did.





	Your Queen

**Author's Note:**

> I blame 8x01 for this.

_The little brat!_ Daenerys thought to herself, pacing the halls of Winterfell.

If not for Jon, she would probably have killed the insolent girl by now. Jon seemed to see no evil in his sister but Daenerys knew better. She could see how power hungry she was, how she saw herself and even her own brother as the enemy. She wanted to be Queen in the North, Daenerys could tell.

Well, she had another thing coming.

Daenerys was her Queen and she was going to respect her if it was the last thing she did!

 

* * *

* * *

 

“Bend the knee to your Queen!” She demanded, entering the Stark girl’s chamber, without bothering to knock.

Sansa frowned, standing from her seat and looking from side to side, checking if the so called Queen was alone. She was. And by the look on her face, she was furious, but Sansa kept her head held high as she stared at the blonde woman.

“Didn’t my brother already do that… _Your Grace?”_ The irony on Sansa’s last words didn’t go unnoticed by Daenerys, who clenched her jaw. “He was the King, he bent the knee, now you’re the Queen. Why do you need for me to do that so?”

“Because I’m _your_ Queen and you do as I say!”

Sansa’s icy blue eyes were fixed on Daenerys’ own, holding her stare and making no attempt to kneel for _her_ Queen. “Jon says you’re not like your father.” Sansa let out a soft chuckle. “He was never very bright.”

The fact that Sansa talked back to her, made Daenerys blood boil in her veins. She stepped closer to the younger woman, raising an eyebrow. “Do you even like him at all?”

Sansa’s face remained straight. “Of course I do. He’s my brother, I lo–”

Daenerys laughed humorlessly. “You can fool everyone else but not me, _Lady Stark.”_ She made sure to use the same ironic tone Sansa had used before. “You hate him for bending the knee to me, just like you hate me for taking what you _think_ is yours.”

Daenerys was moving closer and Sansa couldn’t help but take a few steps back, until her back hit the wall. The redhead woman tried to keep a straight face but she was shaking inside. She knew what Daenerys was capable of. Daenerys was now standing just in front of her and although she was much smaller than Sansa, it still felt like she was towering the Stark girl.

“You know, you are very beautiful. It’s a shame that you’re such a little bitch.” The Targaryen’s words made Sansa frown a little, wanting nothing but to spit a couple truths in Daenerys’ face but refraining herself from doing so. Daenerys smiled. “You’re holding back. Good, good. Seems like you’re not as stupid as I thought.”

By now, Sansa had given up answering the Queen’s provocations and just stood there, holding her pride like Cersei Lannister held her crown. Daenerys studied the redhead’s features up close and reached out to touch her face, causing Sansa to turn her face to avoid her touch. This displeased Daenerys, who held her jaw tightly, making Sansa face her.

“Take off your clothes.” Daenerys ordered, pulling away and taking a seat on Sansa’s bed, watching her.

“What?” Sansa asked, frowning harder.

“Take off your clothes.” Daenerys repeated, in a rather calm voice that, somehow, scared Sansa more than her angry voice did.

“Why?” Sansa dared to ask, earning herself a cold glare from Daenerys.

“Because I’m telling you so.” Daenerys was losing her patience.

Sansa swallowed hard, not moving a muscle. Certainly Daenerys wasn't going to rape her, was she? The thought alone made her shake in fear as memories of Ramsay Bolton came to her mind, making her eyes wet. Seeing this, Daenerys stood up and walked to her, reaching out to touch her arm.

This made Sansa snap and; forgetting who she was dealing with; she pushed Daenerys off. “Don’t touch me!” She screamed, holding herself. “I’m calling my guard!”

This time, Daenerys actually laughed. _“Your_ guard, huh? Oh, you silly girl! These are _my_ lands now and you better show some respect to _your_ Queen!”

Sansa could see the madness in Daenerys’ wide eyes as she screamed the words at her. Jon was an idiot, this woman was _just_ like her father. And Sansa was starting to fear for her life. She took a deep breath, shutting her eyes tightly. Was she ever going to live in peace? Without a crazy King or Queen making her life a living hell?

She gave up.

Slowly, she fell down to her knees. She didn’t bother looking up at the Queen, who probably had a satisfied smile on her full lips. Sansa didn’t need to see that. It would remind her of Joffrey Baratheon and she didn’t need more morbid memories filling up her head.

So she kneeled and she kept her head down. Submitting to a tyrant. Again.

“You look good on your knees, Lady Stark.” She heard Daenerys say, her voice now a little softer but just as threatening.

“May I stand up now, Your Grace?” Sansa asked, trying hard to keep her tears at bay.

“You may.” Daenerys said waited until Sansa did so to continue. “Now take off your clothes.”

Sansa raised her face to face the Queen, a pleading look on her face. “Your Grace, plea–”

“Take off your clothes, Lady Stark. Don’t make me lose the little patience left in me.”

Sansa had wrongly assumed that bending the knee would be enough but now Daenerys wanted her off of her clothes and the fear came back to her body.

Daenerys took a seat on the comfy bed, staring at the younger woman with impassive eyes. Sansa didn’t know what to expect. Maybe the Queen just wanted to humiliate her a bit and would not actually touch her. Hopefully.

With a tired sigh of defeat, Sansa began opening the buttons of her thick winter gown. One by one, until it fell to the floor, leaving her in nothing but her small clothes.

“Those need to go, too.” Daenerys ordered and Sansa clenched her fists.

With one last angry filled look at her Grace, she took off her small clothes, standing there completely naked for her.

Daenerys’ eyes moved up and down the redhead’s body. Sansa had perfect creamy skin, her breasts were fuller than Daenerys had expected and perfectly round, the pink nipples standing at attention because of the cold. Then she looked down; between Sansa’s legs; quite surprised to see she had a completely shaven cunt with not a single hair to be found. The curve of her waist was beautiful, as well as her long legs. There was no doubt Lady Stark had a very womanly body.

“Come here.”

With resignation, Sansa walked to the Queen and stopped just in front of her. Daenerys took a couple more minutes to just stare at the redhead’s body, making Sansa’s anxiety grow stronger. Whatever Daenerys was going to do to her, she just wished it would be quick.

“Over my lap.” Daenerys in a soft voice.

Sansa frowned her brow, opening her mouth slightly in shock. “W-what?”

“You heard me the first time.” The Queen’s voice wasn’t as soft this time.

“B-but… Your Grace, I–”

Daenerys’ face changed and a look of frustration took over her delicate features. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Sansa!”

Sensing the Queen’s humor changing yet again, Sansa decided to just do it before she got the blonde any angrier.  She knew that the angrier Daenerys got, the harder her punishment would be. So she lay awkwardly over her lap, being that much taller than Daenerys only made things even weirder.

Sansa knew what was in store for her. Ramsay had done it to her enough times for her to know when she was about to get a spanking. She could only hope Daenerys would be gentler than her ex-husband was. Surely she couldn’t have that much strength, right? She was just a tiny woman after all.

Oh, how mistaken she was.

On the first blow, Sansa felt the air being sucked out of her lungs. The hard slap on her right buttock stung like all seven hells. How could Daenerys be so goddamned strong?

Then came another. This time, the Queen’s hand hit her left cheek just as hard; if not harder; than the first time. Sansa could already feel hot tears filling her blue eyes.

Daenerys was quite fascinated by the view. Sansa’s perfectly round and pale arse becoming red with her handprints. It was such an arousing sight and made Daenerys spank her even harder. Sansa cried out in pain.

“This is what you get for being a disrespectful little brat!” Daenerys said in her best authoritarian voice, spanking the redhead’s bottom with no mercy.

Sansa fisted the furs of her bed, crying as Daenerys laid blow after blow to her sore behind. She tried to stay still; knowing that trying to get away would only infuriate the Targaryen woman even more; and just take it. Daenerys hands; even though small; were rough and heavy on her red cheeks and the pain was getting worse and worse with every slap.

“I’m.” Slap. “Your.” Slap. “Queen!” Slap. “Get.” Slap. “It?” Slap.

When Sansa didn’t say anything, Daenerys spanked her in between both buttocks, the tip of her index finger accidently hitting Sansa’s cunt. Sansa felt a strange and unknown feeling hit her body and was shocked to hear a soft moan fall from her lips.

Daenerys heard it and smirked, tugging at her red hair to make the younger woman face her. “Are you enjoying this, Lady Stark?” Sansa shook her head no the best she could. “Really? So if I was to touch your cunt right now, can you guarantee it would not be wet?” 

Sansa swallowed hard. “Please don’t, Your Grace.”

“Don’t worry, Sansa. I’m not going to touch you  _sexually_ without your consent. I would never do that.” Daenerys assured the younger woman.

Sansa didn’t know if she should feel relieved or disappointed. A part of her wished the Queen would touch her _sexually._ But she was too ashamed to admit it to herself, leave alone Daenerys. It would be even more humiliating if Daenerys touched her and comproved that Sansa _was_ wet indeed.

The next blow took Sansa by surprise and she screamed in pain once again. “Your G-Grace! Please! Please, no more!” It hurt too much, Sansa could barely stand it.

“I will stop when you say out loud that I’m your Queen!” Daenerys told her, spanking her sore buttcheek once more.

“You are, you are! Please, you are!” Sansa said, gripping her bed furs for balance as her body jerked forward with each blow.

“I am _what?”_ Daenerys didn’t stop.

“My Queen! You are my Queen!” The redhead cried. “You are the Queen in the North!” Saying those words almost hurt more than the brutal spanking she was getting. _Almost._

Daenerys smiled victoriously, finally stopping and resting her aching hand on Sansa’s hurt bottom. The pale flesh was now angry red, with her handprints all over it. Some spots were starting to turn yellow and purple and Daenerys knew she had been too severe but Sansa had it coming. The poor girl wouldn’t be able to sit down for a while.

“Are you going to respect your Queen from now on?” She asked, rubbing Sansa’s sore butt softly.

Sansa nodded her head slowly. “Yes.”

“Yes _what?”_

Fearing another slap, Sansa rapidly add “Your Grace. Yes, Your Grace. I will respect you.”

“Good.” Daenerys said, caressing the soft skin of Sansa’s sore behind. “You’re lucky I actually like you, Lady Stark. I could have been a _lot_ more severe.”

 _You could have burned me alive._ Sansa thought to herself, sobbing softly.

“You may stand up now.” That said, Sansa got off of her lap and stood up, crying in silence as the pain in her bottom intensified, as well as her humiliation.   

“I will have a handmaid take care of your wounds.” Daenerys said, standing up as well and wiping the tears from Sansa’s face. “Now, don’t cry, Lady Stark. You look even more beautiful when do so and I might not be able to keep my word.”

Sansa shivered at the Queen’s touch _and_ her words. Did Daenerys _want_ to touch her? Sexually? Did she even like women? Sansa had never heard any rumors about it but Daenerys sure looked like she was attracted to her.

“Please, don’t send a handmaiden.” Sansa said, swallowing to clear her throat. It would be _too_ humiliating and she didn’t want anyone to know about what just happened.

“Someone needs to take care of your hurt bottom, Sansa.” Daenerys said, making Sansa blush.

“I will do it myself. I don’t need help.”

Daenerys studied the redhead’s face for a few seconds. She was really beautiful. The most beautiful woman Daenerys had ever seen. And now that she didn’t have that arrogant look on her face and looked like a broken doll instead, Daenerys couldn’t find it in herself to hate her. To wish she could kill her, like she did only a couple hours ago.   

“Of course you do. But since you don’t want the help of a handmaiden, I will do it myself. Lay down on your stomach.” Daenerys told her.

Sansa thought about saying something but what was the use? She would end up doing it, anyway. So she lay on her bed, arse up, and tried to relax. She heard Daenerys leaving the room and then coming back, a few minutes later with something in her hand.

She sat down on the bed, next to Sansa, and almost immediately Sansa felt a cold liquid on her overheated butt. Daenerys spread the healing lotion all over the younger woman’s bottom, stroking it very softly. The cold lotion and the gentle massage of Daenerys’ hands, caused goosebumps on Sansa’s cold skin. She could feel her nipples getting so hard, they hurt. Although she wasn’t sure if it was because of the cold or because of Daenerys’ warm hands stroking her arse.

Daenerys was mesmerized by the view. The beautiful long red hair spread along the creamy, silky skin of Sansa’s back, the delicate curve of her waist, ending on her wounded cute bottom. She was breathtaking. Daenerys licked her bottom lip as she squeezed the soft cheeks. It made Sansa whimpered.

“Sorry.” Daenerys found herself saying and it shocked her. Why was she apologizing to this woman? She _never_ apologizes. It confused and; somehow scared her and she stopped what she was doing. “The pain should go away in a few minutes.” She said, standing up.  

She didn’t wait to hear Sansa’s reply and left the room in a hurry. Leaning on the closed door of her own chamber, she took a few deep breaths, feeling her heart beating faster than it had in years.

Ever since...

She shook her head, shaking the thoughts away. There was no way she had such feelings for that woman. There was no _bloody_ way. She had no time for this. She didn’t _want_ it. And much less with such a… exasperating woman like Sansa Stark.

There was no way she was falling in love.


End file.
